


Foul and Fair

by marchionessofblackadder



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Childhood, F/M, Family Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 22:03:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1527314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchionessofblackadder/pseuds/marchionessofblackadder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raised in a life of seclusion, Belle is the youngest daughter of two princesses to a cold and unforgiving queen, but she dreams of being and doing more. Befriending the mysterious royal adviser, she longs for the days she and her sister were close. When the time comes for the princesses to leave childhood behind, a long-buried secret is revealed, Belle discovers that her life isn't as ordinary as she thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foul and Fair

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to [Emma](www.sorrydearie.tumblr.com), who asked for a Frozen AU so long ago and has been patient and kind while waiting for me to actually get this out. I love you, and I hope you like it!
> 
> There is a slight prequel to this story [here](http://missblackwood.tumblr.com/post/73563711929/fic-foul-and-fair-preview).

In all the worlds of all the books that Belle had ever lost herself in, it was an unspoken truth that the hero of the story never knew that they were, in fact, a hero. It was a secret delight to her, turning weathered, battered pages of soft leather tomes with their cracked spines, reading about the lives she couldn’t live and the things she could never do. Being a princess narrowed down the possibilities of living a life of adventure.

Her favorite windowsill was on the upper level of the castle, and it overlooked the glittering blue harbor, the sweeping purple mountains and the evergreen forests of their kingdom. Awash in sparkling color, she would press her hands to the window panes to let the cool spring air rush in, ruffling her auburn curls and her simple blue skirts, the sun warm enough to keep the chill away. With the curtain pulled closed behind her, she was utterly and entirely alone.

Belle hated being alone.

Far behind her, she heard the long creak of a door being opened, and she sucked in a breath, flattening her back against the wall and pressing the book to her chest. There were no footsteps that she could hear, only the gentle wind, the far off calls of the gulls, the workings of ships and the busy traders at market outside the city walls. Biting her lip, the young lady leaned forward and with careful fingers took the edge of the curtain and pulled it back just a tad to peer out.

Suddenly, the curtain was thrown back and Belle shrieked, nearly toppling off the seat of the windowsill. Her book slipped from her hands to tumble into the floor, and a voice tutted at her from above.

“If you want to hide from someone, you shouldn’t hide in the same spot twice,” Rumpelstiltskin clicked his tongue in disapproval, eyeing her with a sharp, measuring gaze before kneeling down and sweeping the book up. Belle bit her lip again, a dreadful habit that her mother would surely swat her palms for. She twisted her hands in her skirts as her tutor, the queen’s royal adviser, examined the aged spine of fairy tales. “And not even spending your time skipping my lesson on something worthwhile.”

The book was handed back to her with a gentler look, and Belle felt herself blush, taking it with sheepish gratitude. “You won’t tell mother?”

“You do know she’ll notice your absence at some point,” Rumpelstiltskin murmured, shooing her feet away so he could sit opposite her on the window seat. She tucked her feet beneath her skirts, looking out the window with a petulant sigh. He tilted his head, a gesture that always reminded her of a cat, narrowing his eyes at her. “She is not so indulging as me.”

“You make fun of me,” Belle protested, shouldering the large book back into her lap and shuffling the pages to find her lost place. She always marked it with a leaf or some string.

“I tease you. I would never make fun,” Rumpelstiltskin huffed, as if he had the right to be offended. His student delivered a withering look with her starry blue eyes and he sighed, tapping his restless hands upon leather trousers, muttering, “We will have to supplement what you miss, Belle. Your mother will be very upset, should she find out you are shirking your duties.”

He never referred to her as “princess” or “your highness” unless there were others in the room. It made Belle feel special, having a secret that no one else had except the two of them.

“Those lessons are so boring, Rumple,” Belle nearly whined, dropping her chin into her hand and looking up at him mournfully. He gave her a smile but she looked back out the window, adding quietly, “I’m not a good princess.”

“Don’t say that,” the royal adviser murmured, but Belle wouldn’t look at him. Her throat was beginning to tighten and her eyes were beginning to sting, and, oh, she hated to cry in front of him. “That isn’t true. Your sister can help you, if you asked.”

“She can,” Belle murmured, twirling her fingers into her hair. It was loose, for her mother preferred it bound and so Belle never pinned or braided it if she could help it. The slight silvery white curl hidden in the thick chocolate locks tumbling over her shoulder caught the light, and she twisted a smile at him. “But she won’t.”

“Ah…” Rumpelstiltskin bit his own lip now, his hands stilling their usual nervous fluttering to fold themselves against his chest. He did that whenever he was unsure, or nervous, and he always seemed to do it around Belle.

“You know it’s true,” Belle accused, pouting.

His gulp was loud enough she could hear it from her perch, and he looked out the window too, squinting in the bright sunlight. “I do,” he hedged, wrinkling his nose. “...Regina has her reasons-”

“Ugh,” Belle threw the curtain back, shoving herself off the window seat. Her throat was so tight that it hurt, and she was sniffling now. She slipped her stockinged feet into her flat black shoes, blinking her eyes, determined they would stay dry. Her tutor was gathering himself up behind her. “I don’t… want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?” His voice was filled with a fair amount of doubt, and rightly so. There was never a time Belle hadn’t wanted to talk about her feelings, especially those concerning her older sister, who seemed to live forever shut away in her room. Speaking to someone else about it, though, made her feel like a traitor, like she was being dishonest with Regina who had so thoroughly cut her off years before, who she never saw anymore, though they lived just across the hall. Though they were of the same blood. Though they had been the closest friends.

Half turning, Belle hesitated, glancing at her mother’s royal adviser in his black vest and deep blue silk shirt, dark trousers and boots making him look more like some far off lord than a simple court keeper. She tried to smile, but it was broken, full of tears, and she couldn’t make it stay still.

Finally, Belle murmured, “No.”

Smiling gently, he reached forward and tucked an errant curl behind her ear and slid his hand down to her shoulder, turning her so she was tucked beneath his arm as they walked. “You used to say that when you were little after your mother had yelled at you, climbing all over my boots while I was trying to work.”

Belle blushed a bright shade of pink, hugging her book to her chest and leaning against his side. She liked it when he drew up the old memories, when things didn’t seem nearly so dismal, and she had just been a little girl out to discover. “Well, I didn’t want to talk about it then, either.”

“But you always did,” Rumpelstiltskin countered in a sing-song voice.

“Only because you bribed me with chocolate and tea,” Belle grinned, turning her face away from his fingers that moved from her shoulder to tickle beneath her jaw.

“Only because I didn’t- _don’t_ -” He paused, stopping their walk towards the staircase. His face became troubled, and whether it was for a search for words (probably not, he always had them on hand) or from the tone of their conversation, she didn’t know. He drew his arm away, close to his chest as if for protection, and Belle tried not to feel a little colder. He let out a slow, deep breath, his eyes falling to her hands on the book rather than her face. “Your mother believes in you. And so do I. You could accomplish anything, should you want to.”

Something wrong sat in his words, and Belle frowned a little, trying to figure out what it was. He turned her again before she could and led her back to the library where lessons were had. Belle tightened her fingers when he tried to take her book out of her hands, and he huffed when she held on tight.

“Belle, let go.”

“I just want to hold it.”

“ _Belle_.”

With a weary sigh, she let it slip through her fingers before sitting down in her chair. It was closest to the fire with a rose colored cushion, but it also faced the window which Rumpelstiltskin knew was the best distraction to his young student (young-she was nineteen!) who liked to daydream of adventure. He plopped the book down on the shelf across the room where she couldn’t get it unless she passed him, and he frowned. “I’ll nail the curtains down if you don’t make an effort to pay attention.”

“Why couldn’t we have lessons in the garden?” Belle asked, leaning her face in her hand. The castle was so dreary and dismal-not to mention empty. Only Regina ever seemed to be the other person there, since their mother was constantly traveling for diplomatic purposes to far off lands. Belle had begged her several times to be allowed to join her on such trips, and even Rumpelstiltskin kindly advised it would be a rich learning experience.

Queen Cora never agreed, and Belle knew that she never would.

“Because then you surely won’t learn a thing,” Rumpelstiltskin snorted, going to his table that was littered with piles of books and papers. It wasn’t so nearly chaotic as his office, and Belle wished they could have their lessons in there. The tall, golden cage he kept filled with songbirds, though, was another distraction that he’d learned soon enough that Belle would fall victim to. Instead she visited them after lessons and fed them seeds and nuts from her palm.

“There’s surely more effort to be put forth with the prospect of gain. Mother isn’t here to disapprove, either,” Belle said, watching the royal adviser’s back move beneath his waistcoat. She felt a blush warm her cheeks and looked towards the fire, clearing her throat.

“Your father was the one to enjoy the outdoors, before he passed, not your mother,” Rumpelstiltskin said, distracted as he tried to find the last page he’d been working at from the thick learning tome. He never marked his place. Belle was constantly doing it for him.

“Which is why now is a wonderful time to do it,” Belle said, biting her lip and gripping the sides of her chair so she wouldn’t spring out of it. “Regina could even come. We could do it together.”

His hands paused over the book he was leafing through, and his eyes glittered when he turned to look at her. Something genuine was lining his face, and Belle felt an odd buoyancy in her chest. He was actually considering it! His fingers fluttered as he stepped close to her chair, and Belle sat up as straight as a lady should, her face shining. He seemed to crumble at her smile, and sighed, leaning against the table. “If I do this-”

“Oh, thank you, Rumpelstiltskin!” Belle threw her arms around his middle, pressing her face against the fine black brocade of his waistcoat and smiling brighter than she ever had. She felt him go tense as a bowstring and felt his hands fluttering about her hair and back.

He huffed indignantly, “I said _if_!”

“Of course,” Belle scrambled away, tucking her ankles politely and clapping her hands together in her lap, nodding enthusiastically. He scowled at her.

“ _If_ I do this, there’s to be no funny business,” he said, wagging his finger near her nose before tapping it playfully. His own smile was fighting to come through, too, and Belle did so like it when he smiled. “Regina has much work to do, so there is to be no horseplay. And you have more than a handful of lessons to catch up on.”

Belle continued to nod fervently. “I’ll be the best student you’ve ever had, I promise.”

He withdrew his finger to his chest, gulping nervously and straightening up. “Yes, well-” He took a deep breath, flapping his other hand. “Meet us in the garden.”

Squealing in delight, Belle pitched herself forward and this time put her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek before tearing herself away and loping off. The stuttering adviser left in her wake turned a unique shade of gold when he blushed, raising his voice, “Belle, a lady _does not_ -!”

“Regina, Regina!” Belle sang, already halfway down the hall and barreling towards the door that would lead to those smooth stone steps down into the garden. The roses would be in bloom! Her voice rang up into the rafters of the castle, and she knew her sister would be able to hear her. “Regina, we’re going outside!”


End file.
